Sansa Tries to Fix Things
by WolframMatter
Summary: As if Sansa wouldn't have a whole host of opinions about the mess everyone is making in 8x04. She starts with Arya. [Arya/Gendry minor fix-it towards the end of 8x04, initiated of course by an interfering sister]


Sansa enters Arya's room to find her sister throwing light clothes and weaponry into a satchel. From the clothes, it is clear she is packing to go south, and no doubt it will be King's Landing, the domain of their enemies.

Arya stops when Sansa steps through the doorway, and looks up guiltily. But Sansa knows her sister too well to expect her to stay, and is only surprised that she hadn't already guessed Arya would be leaving.

Winning a battle is not ending the war.

So Sansa just reaches into her coat and throws a pouch to Arya. Inside it is some coins - Sansa carries them with her in case she ever needs to bribe herself out of sudden danger. But more importantly tucked inside the pouch is a series of notes with secrets of her enemies, collected over the years in King's Landing and from associations with men like Littlefinger. She thinks it is well time Arya held them for herself. Sansa knows all the best ones by heart anyway.

Arya takes the pouch with a raised eyebrow but doesn't look inside. They both know they are parting, and that it's possible they won't meet again. Arya, of course, won't say anything sentimental. She has too much of a boyish heart for that. Instead she returns to her packing, turning her back on Sansa to grab various things from her shelf. She is moving too fast to do the job properly, and knocks over three books and a (luckily unlit) candle before Sansa steps forward and takes one of Arya's hands.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm leaving," Arya says, as if speaking it can make it happen.

"Yes."

"I'm leaving to fix this mess and kill Cersei. And no one could expect me to stay."

"I didn't. I don't."

"I am not the type of person who stands on the sidelines and looks pretty."

And I am? Sansa wonders. Is that what you think?

"I didn't ask to be proposed to. It wasn't like I went - oh, you're a blacksmith, why don't I have sex with you and then you can trap me in a noble marriage? That sounds wonderful. Marriage to a fucking lord."

Well. That was unexpected.

"I mean, he saw me dressed as a boy for years! And now he wants - wanted to marry me?" Wanted. Sansa is not entirely sure she trusts Arya's correction to the past tense.

Arya collapses onto the bed. She looks so like the child she was when Sansa left to marry Joffrey, here, in her childhood bedroom again.

And Sansa is once again jealous of her, the way she had been of her sister's freedom years and years ago.

"Have you asked Gendry whether he'd take you, without the marriage or the chains?" Arya's eyes flicker at Gendry's name, as if she really thought Sansa wouldn't know. Sansa knows every detail of the last fight the scullery maid had with the stable boy, she certainly knows about the relationships that affect the people she loves.

Arya sighs loudly. "He's a lord now. He wants a noble marriage. He wants a lady."

"I think it quite possible that he simply wants you."

"Well, I have to leave."

Sansa hums. It is not quite agreement.

"I can't ignore what's happening down south!" Arya protests. "Now is not the time for - for silly things."

"Like love."

"Oh, what do I know about love?"

More than I do, Sansa thinks. Someone truly loves Arya, and it seems like Arya likely loves him back. That's more than she herself has ever had.

Sansa ties up Arya's three satchels and adds in a few of the items her sister has forgotten. Then she passes them to her sister, and breathes out. This might be it, for one of them. "You better get going."

Arya stands off the bed, looking truly torn for a moment. Then she darts her hands around Sansa and hugs her tight, and it's as clear as goodbye. "It's been good to be back."

Sansa cups one palm around her sister's face and looks into her eyes. "As long as Winterfell stands, there will be a home for you in it. And even if it ends in ruins, as long as I stand, they'll be a place for you beside me."

"No more of you leaving to marry handsome Lannisters?" Arya asks, jokingly.

Sansa shudders dramatically. "No more, please." She tucks the strap of the last satchel over Arya's shoulder, resisting the temptation to tuck a tendril of hair behind Arya's ear.

"Now you, I think, should give your Baratheon a proper send-off. No more of this I'm no lady rubbish. If it's the last time you might see him, you should make sure it is exactly as unladylike as a girl can enjoy."

Arya's eyebrows rise in surprise. "You've got awfully wise, up here at Winterfell."

"It's the cold," Sansa says. "Freezes the hot-headed fool out of you."

"Well I've got a hot-blooded man to apologise to."

Arya takes off down the corridor. Sansa calls down after her: "Make sure to enjoy yourself!"

Then she takes a moment to sit on the bed, head in her hands, and breathe the tears away.


End file.
